Because, Apparently, College Is A Good Thing
by X Amount Of Words
Summary: From experience, Haruhi had learned that whenever Tamaki put his foot down, it was as if he had stepped into numerous, overly sticky bubblegum wads and there was no chance of him changing of his mind under any normal circumstances. [TamaHaru. Unbeta'd.]


_Ouran is not mine._

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As her Father's grandfather clock chimed three times, the doorbell rang six.

Through the sounds and cluttered feelings of annoyance she had, a slightly accented voice cut through everything easily. "Haruhiii! Open the door! I beg of you! I will cause a scene and force you to open up if you refuse to comply to my calm protest! I shall get down on my knees and perform commoner prayer rituals! Don't make me count! I-I'll do it! One…Tw—oomph!"

Before her senpai had even threatened to "count", her book was discarded on the table and she was unlocking the door. She'd prefer not to converse with the landlady about a religious disturbance outside of her apartment any time soon. He was troublesome, even now.

Upon opening the door, however, she hadn't expected him to be flush against it. Therefore, when she pushed it upon, he was caught off-guard and simply…toppled over.

"Tamaki-senpai, what are you doing?" Haruhi asked, casually, leaning onto the doorframe and partially on the door itself.

Tamaki, with his head hanging over the first step, was over-dramatically offended. "Do you not even care that I could be seriously injured?! What if I hurt my neck and if I move in the littlest bit and I'll be paralyzed for life! Or, worse, my spine? And you show no emotion towards my misfortune! Oh, since when did my Haruhi start to hate me?!"

"Senpai, I don't think you're hurt and I never hated you. I was just wondering why you're here all of a sudden."

"Ah, yes. My fatherly intuition was going haywire and I couldn't understand why. I pinpointed what the feeling was and thought of a solution! Which would be to see you! Seeing you, for the first time in weeks, I might add, is the resolution!"

And he still never got up.

There was no way he was injured. If he were, he'd be wailing more than he was before — much louder, wordy, and much, much more annoying. He was fine and if he thought that she'd fall for such an obvious trick, then he was sorely mistaken. Haruhi sighed and held the door open wider.

"Alright, alright. Come inside. It's a little messy so be careful."

Tamaki was quickly on his feet and following Haruhi inside, giggling to himself in turn causing her to shake her head.

However, he hadn't expected, nor would he ever anticipate, to see the terrifying sight before him.

After a long silence that was far too awkward to be descibed using simple literary terms, Tamaki finally spoke. "Haruhi! Your apartment is filthy! What happened to seeing a perfectly clean, normal college student's apartment like I see on the commercials?! This…I just… I cannot even comprehend this! Ah! I understand now! T-This is surely a dream because Haruhi would _never_ let herself go like this," And as most people do when they believe they are dreaming, he pinched himself which only resulted in him proving himself wrong. "Ow…"

Haruhi, who was picking up a bit of the clutter, only sighed. "This _is_ the week after finals. It was a mess, so—"

"It still is a mess!"

"—I was going to tidy up after I finished the book I was reading. This is just a temporary state, senpai, so you don't have to freak out."

After sputtering for a moment that lasted a bit too long, he regained his composure and his index finger was pointed between Haruhi's eyes, the sudden movements causing her to jump slightly.

"I have decided, that due to this unexpected obstacle in our night of fun, we will have desert our previous plans and change them entirely! Thus! We'll begin a dramatic, drastic, overdue cleaning effort in _less _than five minutes! Haruhi, my daughter, gather supplies! I vow, that by the end of this night, your apartment will be spotless and it _will_ sparkle! If it does not, so help me, I will stay for weeks until it does!"

From experience, Haruhi had learned that whenever Tamaki put his foot down, it was as if he had stepped into numerous, overly sticky bubble-gum wads and there was no chance of him changing of his mind under any normal circumstance.

In this case, the circumstance would be her and despite him caring, he was a bit too upset at the moment to be dealt with with rationality. After her wide eyes relaxed, Haruhi could only sigh, recognizing and accepting the inevitable.

Besides, all they would be doing is straightening up. He was an over-exaggerator by nature and there was no way that her messy, post-finals apartment would ever be spotless anyhow. He'd be out the door in a hour if they worked hard.

…Well, it did need a good cleaning anyway.

Maybe this wasn't such a bad predicament after all.

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"Haruhi, what is this?" Tamaki asked, curiously fondling an old toy grabber that had a little dog for the head. "Is it to open cans?"

"Don't be ridiculous — it's just a toy," The brunette replied while bending down to pick up a cardboard box filled to the brim with trinkets similar in nature to Tamaki's current interest. She raised to full height, leaned back to decrease the stress of the weight, and sighed in Tamaki's general direction. "And you have to be kidding me. You've never seen one?"

"No, I haven't!" The toy was now upside down and he was peering into the open mouth, as if attempting to figure out some sort of secret behind it. Even if such a thing _was_ nonexistent. "This is an amazing contraption devised by the common folk — or so I assume! Please, Haruhi, tell me it's name!"

She was, at the time, walking out of her room when he had asked, so after setting the box down in the hall, Haruhi replied from the doorway. "It doesn't have a defined name, I don't think, but I've always just called it a grabber—"

"Ooh!"

"—And you can keep it if you want. I don't have a use for it anymore."

"Really, Haruhi?" Tamaki beamed, soon handling it roughly as it was recently his _own_ commoner toy — _not_ Haruhi's. If he broke it, he wouldn't have to pay her back in full (and much, much more) to put an end to his guilt! Huzzah!

—Then again…that meant it was a _gift_ _from_ _Haruhi_!

He quickly reprimanded himself and touched it more gently than he had before. Yes, this would be cherished — yes, indeed. A sweet, sweet treasure given to him by his even sweeter, beautiful, intelligent, incredibly amazing—

"Tamaki-senpai, please stop rubbing my old toys against your face. It's disturbing."

—Hurtfully blunt daughter.

All in all, taking into consideration everything that had happened in the last few hours, the entire situation was a bit "disturbing".

The apartment she had rented was close to Ouran's College Division, not far off from the high school's. It wasn't a long commute before, but her father insisted she get her own place to "discover the wonders of college life on her own," and she consented, not caring terribly either way.

The promised wonders of college weren't exactly wonderful, but more untidy than anything. It was days after finals and her apartment was…a bit messy when Tamaki had decided to visit spontaneously.

Taken back by the uncleanness, he had initiated the "One-Man, One-Woman Mission to Tidy-up Said Woman's Atrocious Looking, College Stained Apartment" after giving a "short" (by his standards) speech on cleanliness

And, remembering back to his exact words on the overly exuberant title that he had mentioned in his lecture, that did _not_ explain why she was doing all the work. All he did was _play_. If her senpai was going to be so creative and assign them unneeded goals during a visit that had no valid reason other than parental concern, he could at least get the title of all things _right_.

Thirsting for a drink, Haruhi went to the kitchen casually — without mentioning her leave to her senpai. The careless, so-called "mistake" could be hazardous but she would take that chance. After all, she'd be gone for…what, a minute? Surely he couldn't get into _irreversible _trouble.

As she reached for a cup in the cabinet contently, she heard an easily recognizable, singsong voice call and her peaceful expression fell almost instantly. That tone always promised doting or "parental/fatherly love" or some other…thing that he did to annoy her. Out of all the habits he probably dropped over time, _why_ had he kept such an irritating one?

"Haruhiii! What are _these_?"

Alright, it was nothing to fret over, not that she would in the first place. Tamaki probably found some cute little picture from her childhood and _was_ simply doting—

No, he used a plural term. "These."

She was certain she had no photo album — that was _if _they were photos — because those were at the house with her dad. There were some stuffed toys and other little trinkets like ceramic ponies and toy Easter bunnies…well, that's what he must have found. More commoner toys — cute ones. Or maybe girly clothes that were smuggled under her bed by Dad while she was in class? After all, they _were _in the process of cleaning that area out…

There had to be a rational explanation and really, there wasn't anything embarrassing in her room. And if there were, she wouldn't be embarrassed really.

Haruhi removed her fingers from the glass cup gingerly and headed towards her room, silently preparing to be bombarded with "love (!!!!)." Not that it was new, but she had never dealt with his outbursts caused by her kid years directly…

"What is it?" She asked, arriving only to see a very giddy Tamaki sitting Indian style in front of a photo album.

…She was mistaken.

There _were _albums.

And… a lot, at that.

He had at least five spread around him, and he was enjoying himself quite a bit, much to Haruhi's displeasure.

"What are you doing? Put those away, Tamaki-senpai!" She commanded, a bit shocked to see such a scene played out in front of her. It wasn't the fact that he saw her little baby body naked in the tub, or her own little "Beary" she carried around, or the other things they had in common as kids— even if hers were abandoned at age three.

It simply wasn't his business and if she wanted to show him such pictures, she would have. If he asked, she reluctantly would have. He shouldn't go through matters that weren't his.

Her _mother_ was in those photo albums.

He had lost a mother as well but the picture he had was safely sealed in a frame, the photos in the album weren't. He could lose one and then…she didn't even want to think about it.

"But, Haruhi, you were so adorable! Such a happy-looking baby! What happened?!" Tamaki wailed, raising the back of his hand to forehead, falling back ever so slightly. He was no longer the "peon of spring" that consisted of large, cherry blossom temporary tattoos, but of over dramatics and she swore she could see the spotlight that was usually only apparent in _his_ mind.

"What do you mean '_what happened_'? I've always been the same. Just because I'm smiling for the camera doesn't mean anything. Now put those back, senpai!"

"But I'm bonding! — albeit, one-sidedly! Daddy never had a chance to see or know his daughter's childhood because she had never opened up to him and now she's all grown up — forgotten her memories! A terrible disaster, but nonetheless, now may be the opportunity I have! Mustn't waste it!"

"Have you lost your mind?!" Haruhi questioned, picking up the albums while bending over and raising up repeatedly just like those drinking birds that Tamaki no doubt had on his office desk. "You were two when I was born and you didn't come to Japan until you were fourteen so I have no idea why you're complaining that you never saw my childhood. You wouldn't of been_ able_ to."

Tamaki grinned to himself and flipped another page in the album that he was holding onto for dear life —while trying all at once to ignore Haruhi and take in the wonder that was her baby years.. And not to mention, he was trying _so hard_ not to "ooh" and "aww" and "ahhh" or…anything that was too terribly loud, but — D'AWW. Haru-chan clutching an usa-chan! Simply adorable! Oh, goodness! He'd have to request a copy from her father through Kyoya! Perhaps Kyoya already had that picture though, being the Shadow King that he was…Why would Kyoya keep it anyhow? Hmm. That disturbed him greatly.

Annoyed, she laid her hands on the top corners of the album and tugged. In response, he held on tighter with one hand — the other was holding his chin, a happy expression on his face. "Senpai! Give me that! If you damage something, my father would kill you! Also, there are pictures of my mother in there! What if you were to lose one?!"

Instantly, Tamaki's eyes widened at what she said — listening, now — and although he didn't let go, his grip still hard, he held onto it slightly limp. "I'm sorry, I didn't know—"

And with final, strong tug, Haruhi had her mother returned to her, but on another note, she was on the floor.

Tamaki, caught off guard for the second time that day, was pulled up and suddenly conscious of what was happening, he stood dazedly — only to lose his balance from the sudden rush of blood to the head that was due to his neck being bent at such an odd angle seconds ago.

Where he landed was purely an example of coincidence.

On top of Haruhi.

But this time, unlike a similar instance years ago, both were adults. They understood things more easily although they weren't always correct. They were more mature and more experienced and overall, they were intelligent adults — they were far from being scum of the Earth. Well-liked and accepted, they had a very good life.

Although, sometimes the nights were terribly lonely despite the praise they both knew they had. Neither could identify the feeling completely — they'd be lonely before but not for _someone else_ — so they it go and distracted themselves in different ways.

Haruhi watched movies with her father. Tamaki took good care of Antoinette's puppies.

Social interaction was what they longed for and it was received, but it never completely filled them. And for the life of them, they just could not figure out why.

When placed in an unfavorable social situation, both were quick witted and could solve the problem soon, resulting in no hard feelings.

However, now, things were much, much different than saying the wrong thing at a party.

Red face to peach face, noses barely touching, wide eyes mirrored each other, breaths held. Tamaki's legs were pressed tighter to her thighs this time and his hands were closer to her face. The heat emitting from them were making her ears grow warm.

And neither were about to move.

This was certainly a situation that neither could resolve with smart words and impressionable actions. This was something entirely different.

And if they had to admit it, it was also…dare they say it, _adaptable_.

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_Fin. :D_


End file.
